


The Runner

by RoguePuppy



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8456725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoguePuppy/pseuds/RoguePuppy
Summary: An unexpected visitor.  An unexpected question.  And an unexpected realization.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first go at Ghostbusters fic and at fan fiction in general. Enjoy, and I'd love to know what you think!

Erin yawned and pushed her pencil aside. Figures on the paper before her had blurred into a language she could no longer quite understand. She glanced at the clock and sighed, briefly placing her head in her hands and pushing her hair back. Five thirty in the evening yielded no excuse for being this unable to focus. She still needed to work for at least another couple of hours in order to meet her publication deadline.

A purple mug covered in neon green lines and bright yellow triangles returned her yawn, staring emptily up at her, entirely devoid of any remnants of her morning coffee. She remembered a time in grad school when she would have shuddered at the thought of sipping cold coffee hours after the fact. A tiny smile passed across her lips as she remembered her snobbish, French-press coffee ways. These days, she would eat grounds directly from a Folgers container if the need arose. 

She picked up the mug and walked toward the stairs, pausing at the top. This wasn’t her mug. The sudden realization dawned on her and she realized just how tired she must have been this morning as she stumbled blindly to the coffee maker. Some days, it really was a paranormal event in and of itself, how she managed to navigate public transit to the station without suffering some type of bodily harm or ending up in New Jersey. 

Finishing her descent with Holtz’s cup…this was the only logical solution for which of the four ladies would own such a monstrosity masquerading as a coffee mug…she laughed slightly. The thought of the eccentric blonde drinking her sugary concoction of honey, cinnamon, chocolate syrup, coconut milk, and a splash of coffee from Erin’s own plain beige mug was more amusing than it probably should have been. Erin still wasn’t sure how Holtz could drink the stuff at all, much less at the ungodly hour of 5 in the morning when she first discovered the creation coming to life in the firehouse kitchen. But undoubtedly, she had made and drank it this morning without complaining about her missing mug.

The random bits of metal Patty had collected from the floor of the second-floor lab and strung onto a heavy gauge wire on the main entry door clanged as Erin turned toward the kitchen. She paused briefly and looked over her shoulder toward the reception desk they had arranged next to a partition separating the door from the rest of the first-floor office, creating a small lobby area. Kevin sat on the arm of the couch in the middle of the area they had turned into a sort of common room, facing the wall and attempting to balance a spoon on his nose. He was failing terribly and showing no sign of awareness that the door had opened. She sighed heavily and walked toward the desk.

As she approached the edge of the partition, she caught a glimpse of a toned shoulder as the visitor stood, apparently facing back toward the door. She wondered if this would be yet another mistaken tourist or someone looking for the apartments on the next block that had been incorrectly tagged at their address on a few mobile maps. Suddenly, music began to blast through the lobby, a heavy base line bouncing off the walls. 

 

_“I love bad bitches, that’s my fuckin’ problem._

_And yeah, I like to fuck._

_I got a fuckin’ problem.”_

 

Erin furrowed her brow in confusion and stepped closer. From her vantage point halfway across the floor, the figure was silhouetted against a ray of sunlight coming through the window, such that she couldn’t quite make out the edges. The person wore loose sweatpants and a white tank with a baseball cap turned backwards. Erin could feel herself begin to already trip over her thoughts before even trying to formulate a greeting to the attractive potential (hopefully) client. He stood slightly hunched, holding a phone or some sort of running device and apparently attempting to catch his breath. She was attracted before he even turned around. Barring any unforeseen surprises, and they would have to be pretty awful ones, she was certain this was the most attractive person she had seen in months.

 

_“I love bad bitches, that’s my fuckin’ problem._

_And yeah, I like to fuck._

_I got a fuckin’ problem.”_

 

She cleared her throat, stepping toward the desk, and began. “H-hello. Ghostbusters. Um. How can we…” The figure turned and her eyes followed the line where shoulders met collar bone. Beads of sweat trickled from where the clavicles met down toward the top of the tank, which was slightly wet and transparent. Her breath caught at the realization and she couldn’t help but let her eyes continue their journey, taking in the sight of…purple fabric underneath. 

Erin’s eyes finally turned upward and travelled unexpectedly across much softer lines than those her mind had already extrapolated from the fuzzy image. Pink lips. Pale cheeks tinged with red. Long lashes looming over impossibly blue eyes. A single blonde wave escaping from beneath the hat.

“…fuck.” She finished her sentence, derailed in the middle into a completely separate and unsettling thought.

Holtz smirked. “Just let me catch my breath first.” She pressed a button on her phone to stop the music and began to loop the now-disconnected headphones around her fingers.

“Huh?”

“The answer to your question.”

“W-what question?”

Holtz laughed and stepped closer. “The one you just asked me.”

Erin closed her eyes and shook her head, as though the motion would clear the fog that had suddenly invaded her brain. She retraced the last few moments. _Holy shit._ She had just asked Holtz, _“How can we fuck?”_ Holtz. Of all the phrases…

“Oh my god! I’m sorry! I didn’t, um…I thought…you were a client.”

“You really shouldn’t ask clients that question. At least, not until they’ve been here longer than a couple of minutes. But I really didn’t take you for that type.”

“I didn’t! I mean, I’m not. I don’t. The sun, I thought you were a hot…”

“Thanks!” Holtz beamed.

“…guy,” Erin finished, and immediately regretted without knowing why. She moved on without allowing herself to think any further on that note. “But then I realized you were you, and I…” She faltered, no longer able to process a response without feeling like she was digging herself deeper into a ridiculous number of holes.

“Erin. Relax. I’m kidding.” Holtz was close now, so close that Erin could feel heat radiating from her body. She momentarily forgot to restrain her eyes, and they drifted lower of their own accord. The sight was somehow better now that it was unhindered by her mind’s conclusions. The thin white tank was almost transparent as Holtz’s body cooled itself. A purple sports bra was now clearly visible, and Erin swallowed hard. She had never seen this much of the engineer, in the past carefully adhering to her rules of definitely not noticing how many of Holtz’s t-shirts were only connected by thin strips of fabric on the sides. There was usually a lab coat of some sort facilitating her ignorance, but when it was absent, she kept her eyes carefully trained on the woman’s face, which admittedly, wasn’t difficult. There was no reason she should want to look elsewhere, anyway. She was attracted to Kevin.

But now, she couldn’t stop. Her eyes had finally revolted and broken their chains, roaming freely. Below the band of the sports bra, the thin fabric clung to a toned stomach, revealing its musculature as it flexed in and out, more slowly now, but still working to replenish oxygen to Holtz’s system. The sweatpants sat impossibly low, and a strip of skin was visible above them. Erin pulled in a shaky breath, shook her head again, and returned her eyes to their upright position.

The blue eyes she met danced with amusement. Holtz smiled and lifter her hand toward Erin’s face. _Holy shit,_ Erin thought again. Holtz leaned forward, bringing her face closer to Erin’s. She smiled and licked her lips. Erin closed her eyes, unable to process input from multiple senses in anticipation. Her brain buzzed. Fractions of a second later, she felt a finger under her chin. It pushed upward, and she realized her mouth had been hanging open.

“You might want to close that.”

Erin’s eyes fluttered open, and she immediately felt ridiculous, awkward, embarrassed, and disproportionately disappointed. Holtz smiled, placed a finger lightly on the end of Erin’s nose, and then turned toward the stairs to the second floor.

At that moment, Erin released a breath she didn’t know she had been holding and caught herself on the edge of the desk as her knees went on strike. A flood of thoughts resounded in her mind. _What was that? Holtz runs? She listens to rap music while she runs? She owns “normal” athletic clothes? And hats? She wears hats really well… What am I doing?_

Holtz paused, halfway up the stairs and spoke over her shoulder. “I run to clear my mind. Rap music is motivating if you ignore some of the lyrics. Thanks for the compliment. And, if you change your mind, I’ll be in the shower.”

 _Huh? …Oh god._ How many of those questions had she spoken out loud?

The blonde met her gaze and winked before bounding up the stairs, removing the hat as she went and releasing a few loose curls longer than Erin would have expected, if her brain were functioning to know what to expect at that moment.

Realization dawned on Erin from multiple directions as she watched the woman retreat. Not the least of which being what that comment implied, that it wasn’t mentioned off-handedly, and that she was about 97% certain Holtz wasn’t kidding. Most importantly, Erin now badly wanted to run up the stairs after her and wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t give in to the desire in the next five minutes.

_Fuck._


End file.
